


Hunger of The Pine

by skyes



Series: If you were Oz [4]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Kissing, M/M, Mage AU, POV Alternating, Soulmates, They're getting there, background BirdFlash, mention of suicidal thoughts, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 11:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyes/pseuds/skyes
Summary: “Will you run away again?” Damian asked, his voice low and vulnerable, and it wasn't just physical attraction lurking in Tim's chest this time, especially when the younger broke the eye contact, because he couldn't bear it anymore.He felt so lost since he came back to Gotham, and not just because he was different, but because Damian was, too, and it made him feel things he wasn't used to, and he couldn't look at Damian and see a petulant child, because he wasn't a child anymore, neither of them were, and that made it all complicated. And then, there was the soulmark, too. Nothing ever was easy for Tim.“I won't,” Tim said.Damian looked back at him.“Is that a promise?” he asked, and Tim remembered the first time he asked him that, and couldn't not nod.“It is,” Tim said, just like he did the first time.





	Hunger of The Pine

**Author's Note:**

> Jesus Christ, I'm just hopeless. But at least this is the longest part I've ever written to this story and I think it ended up good?? I hope you will like it, too. This is not the end yet, I have so much to say about Tim and Damian still, and there are other thing I'd like to add to this universe. 
> 
> I was thinking if I should add Underage as a warning but decided not to. I'm not sure about laws and stuff in the US, but where I live 18 is legal age, and since Damian is already over 18 in this story, I think we should all be fine :)
> 
> As for warnings, there're mentions of suicidal thoughts and depression on Tim's part.
> 
> Oh and yeah! Title is from Alt-J, they have a song with it :)
> 
> I'm still an esl, and I probably have tons of mistakes in this one, so please bear with me as always <3

If he wanted to call Dick anything, he would've called him mother hen.  _ Hovering.  _ Dick was always hovering. And that was the exact reason why he was surprised that Dick let him be in a relative peace, especially after he appeared on the streets as  _ Hermes.  _ But then again, Dick was living in Blüdhaven now, being a family man and all that jazz, and Tim thought that Bruce might not have been very keen on telling him about Tim. 

And honestly? 

Tim felt grateful for that. 

Grateful, because it was already pretty freaking hard to go and visit the Titans. It was hard to face Kon and Bart and see the disappointment on their faces that they wanted to hide under half-polite half-really-just-relieved smiles. They weren't too successful. 

It was weird, changing phone numbers again, making plans with his friends: the weekend after the next they were planning on visiting the Kents, hanging out like back in the days, only Bart, Kon, and Tim. And then there was Raven, the ever mysterious Raven, who seemed to be crying, when she first had got a glimpse of him, or a glimpse of his mind; and Gar and Miguel, being their usual selves, hugging the dear life out of Tim and sobbing loudly. 

No one asked him however to be part of the team again, and Tim was sure that that was Cassie's doing and he couldn't really blame her for it. Honestly, he was equally relieved and disappointed. 

He wasn't part of  _ these _ Titans no more, and just like how it happened to be with his family, he wasn't sure if he wanted to. It wasn't about methods and moral codes this time; it was purely because they weren't kids anymore, they didn't know each other anymore, not really anyway, and Tim left in their formative years. They couldn't pretend that that never happened. The Titans were built on trust, and he couldn't expect them to trust him, nor he wanted to.

It would've been easy to visit the Titans - even if Bruce bans him from the planes - he could've just used his magic. But as so many times nowadays, Tim found himself craving to use normal transportation. 

So it actually took him days with train, and hiking and cheap motels and smelly buses, but it was good. Seven years spent away from them made Tim appreciate the small things, the small towns, the country and the many kinds of people who lived in it. And he could see them here. Being in Gotham made him feel like he was living in constant darkness, and it was hard, hard to handle the endless night and hopelessness. 

And now he was seeing daylight and blue skies and sometimes snow white, sometimes angry grey clouds. And the same on the way back. 

The message got to him when he changed to his last train. His newly bought phone started to buzz in his pocket, and he was reluctant to check out the messenger's ID. When there was only a number there, he just had to have a look at it. 

_ 'Hey, little brother,'  _ the text started and Tim knew instantly who it was on the other end. Jason always called him on names, he'd never heard Damian use anything but  _ Drake,  _ and the girls were always respectful when it came to his name. So, that left Dick there.

_ 'Hey, Dick.' _

_ 'B gave me your number. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you in the last couple of days, I know they were hard on you.' _

Tim leaned forward, his forehead touching the rather big screen of his phone. The glass was lukewarm just like his insides. Sometimes he thought he was a compact, tiny but smart machine like his phone. It would've been more fitting, than being a human. Easier, too. 

Seriously, though, he had no idea where he stood with Dick.

With the girls, it was easy. Cassandra had never been a person of words to begin with, and he treated Tim like she treated everything: with silent and calm acceptance. Steph was different, but they meant too much to each other, so they were going down on the bumpy road of friendship yet again, and it seemed like nothing much had changed. Steph still was stubborn, loud and caring, and Tim still was awkward.

With Jason they never really liked each other. They started to get closer, getting to know each other better in the year before Tim left, and now they were on the opposite sides of a borderline. Just like always. Tim didn't doubt they would work it out eventually. He didn't doubt that he would be able to trust Jason with his life. 

Damian was hard. He had a lot of time to think about Damian and his soul mark on the younger's wrist. He was sure he didn't love Damian, not like that anyway, but he knew magic enough to know that he was better not go against it. As for Damian, and his kiss…  Tim was sure the other didn't love him either. It was just some misguided guilt over his disappearance that Damian mistook as affection. Or so Tim wanted to believe. 

But Dick… Dick was entirely different. He was still a teenager with Jay, and later on - just like Bruce - he didn't want to repeat the same mistakes. He treated Tim differently than he treated Jay, he wanted to be there for his little brother, when he needed him, he wanted to be the person, the Robin, he could look up to. Tim remembered calling him after his dad died. Tim remembered that Dick always knew. 

Tim remembered that Dick was the only person he didn't have to spell out  _ suicidal  _ for, and he still knew it, still knew that Tim wasn't alright. 

Tim didn't really think that he had made a mistake when he left seven years ago. He felt bad, of course, but he would've done it again. Except that this time he would also tell about it to Dick. Because what he had done to Dick, that was betrayal. He made Dick feel like he wasn't trusting him, when Dick was the one he trusted the most. He wouldn't have it in him, to do that to Dick again. Not ever again. 

He didn't feel worthy of the other man's kind words. Seriously. 

But he started to type out an answer anyway. 

_ 'It's okay, I can imagine how hard it is to adopt children.' _

_ 'You know, I don't understand why was it so easy for Bruce every damn time. That bastard.' _

Tim couldn't keep the smile off of his face. Another message arrived. 

_ 'Don't you worry about us, little bird. Tell me about yourself instead, okay? I hear that there is this pretty hot vigilante out there on Gotham's streets, and he calls himself Hermes.' _

Of course he knew. Tim suddenly wished he had told him before he found out on his own. 

_ 'Who told you?'  _ he asked instead. 

_ 'Little Colin Wilkes. And before you go there - he added the hot part, too. You're quite the looker as I heard, Timmy.' _

Oh, Tim remembered Colin Wilkes and felt blood creeping up on his cheeks. He complimented him again, and apparently Colin Wilkes didn't even need to be present to make Tim blush. 

_ 'Lies.' _

_ 'Yeah, I don't think so.' _

There was a tiny pause between the messages, and then:

_ 'I wanna meet Hermes. Can we go get a coffee when you're back in town?' _

Tim sighed. 

_ 'That sounds good.' _

\--

Damian was splayed out on the sofa in the den when Dick entered the Manor with a loud bang that came from the front door. Damian rolled his eyes: the oldest son was incapable of moving silently once he was out of his uniform. 

He tried to focus on the TV show he was watching (mind you, it was Cosmos, his most favourite documentary  _ ever _ ) once again, but half a minute later Dick was in the den being loud and obnoxious and everything  _ Dick Grayson,  _ making it impossible to concentrate. 

“Hey, little D,” he singsonged, and Damian couldn't resist rolling his eyes again. 

“Grayson.”

“Man, adopting is a real pain in the ass, I'm telling you.”

Damian didn't doubt that. Grayson was married well over a year now, living together with West, and it wasn't a surprise, really, nor was it when they announced that they wanted to have kids. But it still wasn't exactly easy to adopt a child as a gay couple and even if Damian liked to pretend he was indifferent, deep down he was rooting for his brother and his family. It felt like they're adopting a little sister for him as well, just a tiny bit, and he couldn't not be happy about  _ that.  _

“Why are you here?”

The thing about Dick was that he only showed up in the Wayne Manor, when he wanted something, and Damian wanted him to know that  _ he  _ knew.

“Can you lend me your bike?”

“Where's yours?”

“Home.”

“Then how did you come? And do not tell me that you used public transport, Grayson, because I know that is a lie.”

“I came by car,” he admitted, but before Damian could've shoot another question, he continued. “I have a coffee date with Timmy, okay? And I don't want to use the car in the city, the roads are hellish at this time, and you know that, too.”

“You are going to meet with Drake?” Damian asked, and his mouth went dry for no good or apparent reason.

“Yep. What's with that face? You guys are not killing each other  _ again, _ I hope.”

“No, nothing like that,” Damian forced out through gritted teeth. 

“Nothing like that, huh?” Dick asked back, clearly not buying it, but as he was  _ already  _ late, he didn't forced the topic, only looked at Damian expectantly, till the younger let out a resigned sigh, and offered the keys of his bike to his brother. 

“You're the best, Dami,” he smiled, taking them. Damian glared. 

“Sure. Now get out of here, Grayson, you are ruining my quality relax time.”

Grayson, because he was an actual idiot, only laughed and left the Manor as loud as he came. Damian only shook his head, because really, what else could he have done? Other than going back to his show, which he did, by the way. He had a calm twenty minutes, but then his phone started ringing, and when he simply ignored it, it started again, and again.

They just couldn't leave him alone today, could they? 

He wasn't exactly surprised seeing Colin's name blinking on the screen. He hadn't talk to him in the past couple of days, mostly because he had some things to think through, about the name on his wrist that was now perfectly visible to him, but remained unseen to anyone else. 

He wanted talk about Darke with someone so badly, but he just couldn't find the right words, or the starting point of the story. He didn't even know where he himself stood. It was disturbing and uncomfortable and annoying, and he was desperately in need of a friend, but just couldn't bring himself to finally admit the things he had to admit. 

The phone restarted with the annoying  _ noise  _ Colin set up as his ringtone. It was some ungodly punk band Damian couldn't remember the name of, but it was loud enough so he couldn't ignore it for too long. He suspected that that was exactly the reason why Colin chose it. 

“Yes?” he spoke up finally, picking up the device. 

“Man, when I thought you couldn't get any meaner, huh,” Colin said cheerfully, his voice strange through phone. 

“What do you want Wilkes?”

“I don't know, man, you tell me.”

“I'm not in the mood for games.”

This time, Colin sighed. 

“Why are you avoiding me, Dames?” he asked simply, and Damian hated how Colin always saw straight through him, how he always knew what to ask and say. He wasn't even that much older, it wasn't fair. 

“I do not…”

“Sorry, I forgot to say that I have my bullshit filter on, so only the truth will come through. Now, what were ya saying?”

Damian held his breath back for a moment, before taking a big gulp of air in, starting again. 

“It's not about you. It's about Drake,” he admitted, the words hurting his throat. He didn't have to wait for Colin's response. 

“Of course it is about your hot brother. Now, spill.”

Damian rolled his eyes. 

“It is… complicated,” he said finally, but of course it usually wasn't that easy to shake Colin off, and the older boy didn't yield this time either. Damian could almost see how he crooked one eyebrow, without saying a word. Luckily, they were on phone, so he could pretend that he didn't know all of Colin's expressions already and the redhead had to speak, giving Damian time to set up his defense.

“ _ Everything  _ in life is complicated, Dames, don't create problems where there are none originally. Tim might be complicated but he ain't unsolvable, okay? So let me go over, and let's have a boys night, so you can tell me about all the shit that is going through your pretty head.”

\--

Oddly enough, or maybe it wasn't strange at all, but it was really easy for Tim to talk to Dick. Now that he thought about it, he really didn't tell anyone why exactly he left, how he felt, when he left. When he came back, he gave vague answers, mostly because he didn't want to deepen Damian's guilt, and because he didn't feel gratification over his brother feeling shitty no more, not even the thought of it made him feel things - any kind of things. 

But he was painfully alone without Noah and he wanted to talk, really talk, telling everything, every last bit of the whys and becauses. He wanted to say the things out loud he didn't say in the past seven  years and it was incredibly hard, but once the words were out of his mouth he felt light and transparent and good. 

“I think I'm only here today, Dick, because I was too brave or too much of a coward to kill myself,” he said simply. 

There were so many things behind this one sentence: the depression, the nightmares, the thoughts that were killing him slowly but surely back then. The days, when he was too weak to get out of bed, so he stayed under the thick blankets pretending he was sick, and maybe he was, or maybe he wasn't, but he didn't want to see the outside world for sure, because he couldn't find his place in it, and he didn't feel strong enough to look for it. It didn't matter anymore, because his father had died and he wasn't religious enough to accept that he was in a better place now, but he couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that he might have been nowhere anymore, because that thought was scarier than life and scarier than death, and Tim was falling apart. He had no Bruce, because Bruce had a Damian to deal with, and he couldn't open his mouth to tell about all the dark things lurking inside him to his friends, because sometimes, on days when his whole world was his bed, his jaw didn't work and every word that left his mouth was forced and painful and false. 

It was kind of a funny story, except it wasn't. 

And yet he was too brave and too much of a coward to end it all. 

But, as it turned out, he was enough of a coward to run  away. And he did exactly that, because that seemed to be the only option not too painful but still painful enough, and he hoped he can run away from losing his loved ones, from his demons, his nightmares. 

And in some sense, he succeeded. 

He wasn't exactly surprised when Purefly gave him a gift, and that gift was foreseeing things through bad dreams. Purefly was making him only brave, tearing and pulling out all his fears under his skin, like people would do it to weeds.

This was the truth lay out in front of Dick. The older was looking at Tim with crystal clear, knowing eyes, and not even once before did he seem so much like a father like in that moment, eyeing Tim and considering and understanding. 

Tim didn't ask how much of his story did he suspect before he told him, and Dick didn't answer to the not-spoken question, as it wasn't really important. The only important part was Tim telling him, on his own terms, from his free will. 

Noah wasn't here anymore. Gotham wasn't Purefly. He didn't know his friends anymore. 

But he knew Dick, he trusted Dick with everything, and that made Tim feel like he had his wings and feathers on in broad daylight. He felt free. 

And oddly enough, or maybe it wasn't strange at all, but he believed that Dick knew all that, too, even if Tim wasn't talking anymore. 

\--

Where Damian failed giving Tim the comm link, Dick succeeded, and they were lucky he succeeded. Some new, minor villain started to deal with arms, and for some ungodly reason he wasn't just pretty good at it, but also successful, which eventually lead to a huge shipment, they just couldn't let into Gotham. 

As it turned out, they expected them to show up. It was rather refreshing, that an evil-doer, for once wasn't surprised, when Batman showed up in their backyard, after they smuggled machine guns into  _ his _ backyard.

And frankly, Damian couldn't say that they weren't prepared. Even if most of them were mere thugs, whoever stood behind them, they weren't entirely stupid. Not that they couldn't handle it, but they did give them a hard time, he had to admit that much.

Also, he was both relieved and worried, because this time he could watch Tim using his magic longer than ever before, and everything that was only a blur and wonder in their previous encounters, now seemed less like a mystery, even if it was still very impressive. Tim was still human - different from them, but nothing essential had changed, and that strangely set Damian's mind at ease.

Apparently, this guy was smart enough to not be there when they locked down his entire shipment of guns. It meant they couldn't catch him, not this time around, and Bruce not being happy was a severe understatement.

He stormed away without talking to any of them after GCPD arrived. The look on Commissioner Gordon's face when he first caught a glimpse of Tim was priceless, and Damian had to work hard to muffle the laugh that bubbled up in his throat.

“I thought Batman and Co. doesn't work with metas,” the Commissioner said looking at Todd, who just smirked - or Damian imagined him smirking, the hood betrayed nothing, his voice however was so smug that the youngest wouldn't have been surprised if Gordon had had a sudden urge to hit the Red Hood.

“He ain't a meta,” Todd said matter of factly, and the Commissioner gave him a flat look. 

“I… don't even want to know.”

And so the conversation ended without the older man punching Todd in the face, much for Damian's grief, and after they huddled all the low-lives, “Batman and Co.” also took their leave. Of course their night still far from its end, but at least they could leave for their respective parts of the city.

Damian was eyeing Tim, the older seriously owed him some explanation. Drake was always good at running away, but Damian really had hoped that he changed at least a bit, in, you know,  _ the last seven years _ , and he will come around. He was so done with them not talking about their…  _ fucking  _ problems.

Tim must have felt the eyes on him, because he looked up from where he was standing next to the girls of the family, right back at Damian, and Damian felt like he was burning up, like the mask he was wearing did nothing to hide him from Drake, and it was  _ frightening.  _ He hoped that it wasn't showing, that he looked neutral and confident. He certainly didn't look away, and that was a victory in his book.

His book changed a lot in the last couple of years.

Drake was the one who looked away first. He was saying something to Cain and Brown, than just disappeared, like he was never there. Damian started to get sick by that move of his, honestly. But before anger could've taken over him, his comm activated and Drake voice was so clear in his ear like he was standing next to him.

“So, are you free after this?”

Damian rolled his eyes, though he knew Drake can't see it.

“What do you think?” he asked, because he may have changed, but he still loved being difficult. Todd look at him, but before he could've asked anything Damian just shook his head, and walked out to his bike.

“Don't be difficult, Damian.”

The younger boy smirked.

“Oh, you don't even know.”

“Believe me, I do.”

“You realise,” Damian started slowly, getting on his bike and igniting the engine, “that you left, and seven years actually  _ has passed _ , while you were away, right, Drake? You know nothing about me.”

There was silence on the line, and Damian for a moment thought he overstepped - again -, but then Drake hummed.

“You're actually right. It pains me a lot to admit it.”

And then Damian laughed. It was free and rare, it didn't matter how many years had passed he just wasn't a person who could laugh so openly and freely. When it happened, it usually happened with Colin or Grayson. 

“Did you… did you just laugh, Damian?” Drake asked, he sounded so surprised, Damian almost laughed  _ again. _

“Happens. So. Will you talk to me today, or you plan to keep running away like a coward, without explaining me anything at all?” he asked, and he could hear the sharp intake of breath from Drake's side. Damian had no doubts, the former Robin was ready to bolt. Yet, maybe this time he was brave enough to stay instead. Damian wanted him to be brave enough.

“We really should talk,” Drake said finally, voice so low Damian could barely hear him over the loud growl of his bike engine. “Come by my place after patrol. I'll send you the coordinates.

Excitement crawled in Damian's stomach to the promise of talking. He had so many questions, and he was used to that. He had tons of questions after he realised he knew nothing about himself and how he was supposed to fit into this world. But now he had questions about Drake and himself, too. They weren't delusional things or imaginary children of his mind; he could see a mark on Drake noone else could, and suddenly his attraction wasn't something confined in his head and existing only there.

“Alright,” he breathed out. “See you later then, Drake.”

\--

Tim was anxious. He was not good with Damian. He'd never been. And the seven years they spent apart, and the inexplicable kiss they shared, and his soulmark the younger could see didn't help his anxiety at all.

They were taught about soulmarks in Purefly. Or just… marks in general. Their true name that only the people they trusted the most - family - could see, and only if they wanted them to see it. The only exception was their soulmates: they couldn't hide from them. But soulmates were so rare nobody see a pair in the last century, so Tim didn't really pay attention of the things they told them about soulmarks and soulbonds and stuff like that. He didn't have a soulmate. End of the story.

Oh boy, was he wrong.

He rubbed his name on his wrist absentmindedly, and tried not to think of Damian having the same name on his own skin. It was disturbing, but the affection he felt lurking in his chest when he'd seen the mark on the current Robin was even more so. He'd never been affectionate towards Damian, their relationship was so rocky, they didn't even exchange kind words at all.

Of course, that was all before Purefly.

Damian was right. He did tend to forget that years passed, and his family changed.  _ He, himself changed.  _ And Tim should've been blind not to see that even in the short amount of time he was back that Damian was no exception.

He changed into sweatpants and a worn t-shirt, and put on some water for tea. They would turn him into a tea person, but they just couldn't have coffee at 4 am, not when he was so good at getting hours of good sleep. But he was also mortified by the idea of having Damian here, and not having anything he could occupy his hands with. He buried his fingers in his hair, and jumped a little bit, when  _ someone  _ cleared their throat behind him.

“The hell,” he breathed out, as he pivoted on his heels. It was Damian, of course, in torn black jeans and an Iron Maiden t-shirt that in no way was his under the leather jacket he wore. He was tall with broad shoulders - not as broad as Bruce's or Jason's, but the resemblance was clear. He looked more and more like his father by day, except for the clear, emerald eyes. Tim kind of hated the fact that he noticed it, that he found the way he looked attractive. Alluring.

“Sorry, I should've knock, probably.”

“Yeah.”

“But when the thought occured me, I was already half-way up on the fire escape,” Damian grinned, and the expression was so alien on his face, Tim felt struck. It didn't feel insincere, however, he was just not accustomed to Damian smiling, grinning without malice, he guessed. This Damian was only alien to Tim. The honest, open expression on his face made Tim's heart do weird things. Damian almost looked like his age, like a boy, in his late teens or early twenties, free and careless and living. Nothing like the Damian he knew or the idea of Damian he thought he knew. He was like Dick, in a way, he acted like a kid brought up in a family that loved him, that guided him, and he had the time to grew accustomed to the concept of support and kindness. Tim was more and more confused by the minute.

It wasn't the bad kind of confusion, however. Or so Tim thought.

He wanted to blame the marking they both bore on their wrists, but he knew it had nothing to do with the pure physical desire he felt towards a handsome young man. True, he would've never thought he would feel this way towards Damian, and it caught him unprepared.

“Do you still like tea? I made some.”

“Yes,” Damian answered and the openness disappeared, he looked back at Tim with a guarded expression.

“Please, take a seat.”

“You talk like a CEO.”

“Yeah, sorry, I'm just,” Tim lowered his eyes, “I'm not good at this,” he finished lamely, and once Damian took a seat, he served him the tea, than he sat himself, too.

“Nobody can see the marking,” Damian noted, like he wanted to help Tim to start the conversation, and the older was actually quite grateful.

“Nobody should,” he nodded. “I also put glamour on them. It's our private matter, and I… didn't feel comfortable with showing it, till we're not on… I wanted us to decide about how we would handle this, you know.”

“I understand. So, what should I need to know about this?” Damian hold up his wrist, and the sight of his own name on the boy's skin made Tim wince.

“I actually don't know that much about soulmates, honestly. It's partly my fault: I didn't really paid attention when we covered that particular topic, but also because they're extremely rare. The markings only show up if a mage is involved, which obviously makes it even harder to detect them, but even with us, there has been decades since the last couple. I just didn't think I would ever need to face a situation like this.”

“Is this a physical thing?” Damian asked.

_ Oh, it very much is on my part, demon spawn,  _ Tim thought, and swallowed, when his eyes traced the column of Damian neck and the honey-brown color of his skin there.

“Partially, yes. But it's really deeper than that, exists on a spiritual level, too. In the past, many of the pairs had a deep friendship before an actual relationship, or anything physical. And, of course, their descendants were always really talented. That isn't really an issue between us, though,” Tim tilted his head, and felt relieved, when Damian smiled slightly.

“What do you want us to do?” Damian looked him in the eye, searching, and Tim was uncomfortable under the heavy gaze.

“I don't know. Honestly. I have no idea, I don't even know how should I feel about this,” he admitted, playing with his mug, than something occured him. They were always talking about him, and him only. But they were in this together. Damian was part of this, and they shouldn't repeat the same mistakes. Tim shouldn't be the one who made a decision, alone. “What do  _ you _ want to do, Damian?” 

Damian turned away from him, fidgeting. His fingers were just as restless on his mug, as Tim's were on his. 

“I think we are doing this backwards, Drake,” he said, not looking at him. “We've got these marks before we have got trust, and I, personally, have the attraction covered for a fairly long time now, but there's no relationship that could be built on that alone.”

Tim could feel his eyes going wide. Did Damian just say what he thought he said?

“What do you mean you got it  _ covered _ ?” he asked, because he just couldn't think of anything else to ask, his mind went blank momentarily. Damian had the nerve to roll his eyes, but couldn't hide the way the tips of his ears went red.

“I know you did not talk about me with the others, or not much anyway, after you came back, but I thought you figured that it wasn't like they never realised that I played a part in your leaving. And obviously I couldn't be left to my own devices. So, after some threats and a couple of weeks, and after the fact that you really left eventually sunk in, Grayson kicked my ass and wrestled me into a chair of psychologist. It was not easy, but it helped, and, well. Looking back, it's easy to see how I had a premature crush on you, and now you came back, and it's not like you suddenly became unattractive. On the contrary, actually…” 

“A premature crush.”

“I didn't even know the meaning of the word 'crush' back then. My upbringing wasn't exactly… You know. But I did find you attractive. I still do.”

Tim stared at Damian. He wanted to look away, but simply couldn't. Damian was clearly embarrassed, but he returned his gaze, and his face was so open and so honest, Tim had to swallow down all the bubbling emotions Damian had made him feel. 

“I don't know what to say,” he forced out finally, his voice hoarse and not like his at all.

“Will you run away again?” Damian asked, his voice low and vulnerable, and it wasn't just physical attraction lurking in Tim's chest this time, especially when the younger broke the eye contact, because he couldn't bear it anymore. 

He felt so lost since he came back to Gotham, and not just because he was different, but because Damian was, too, and it made him feel things he wasn't used to, and he couldn't look at Damian and see a petulant child, because he wasn't a child anymore, neither of them were, and that made it all complicated. And then, there was the soulmark, too. Nothing ever was easy for Tim. 

“I won't,” Tim said.

Damian looked back at him.

“Is that a promise?” he asked, and Tim remembered the first time he asked him that, and couldn't not nod.

“It is,” Tim said, just like he did the first time. He didn't hate Damian, and he didn't plan to run away again. He was braver now, than he was the last time. More sure of himself. And whatever they had between them, it was special, and Tim didn't plan on missing out on it just because he was too much of a coward to face his own feelings and possibilities. 

“Alright, then.”

They both took a sip of their teas, and it was getting cold, but Tim couldn't be bothered. 

\--

A couple of days later, Damian took Colin out to have lunch together. The redhead looked way too pleased for Damian's liking, but Colin was his closest confidante, and also the only person he felt comfortable talking to about this matter. Colin didn't know him at his worst, when they became friends Damian was already better, and frankly, Colin only helped the process. He could look at Damian's things weirdly objectively, and Damian could use that particular ability of his now.

He asked Drake if it was okay to talk to Colin about this, and Drake said it was fine, if Damian trusted him. And well. Damian trusted Colin with his life.

“So,” the older boy looked at him over his plate, “let me get this straight, pun not intended. You and you hot not-brother are apparently soulmates, and you confessed you never-dying love to him.”

“There was no mention of any kind of love, but I did admitted that I find his looks pleasing.”

Colin raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, whatever you have to tell yourself Dames. And, what will happen now? Or did something already happen? Kissing?” Colin wriggled his brows.

“You are an idiot Wilkes,” Damian rolled his eyes. “And I don't know. I feel like I know nothing, and it's a feeling I don't like at all.”

“Welcome to the world of normal people.”

“Please,” Damian huffed, “you are as far of normal as one gets.”

“Still,” Colin shrugged. “But, if you let me give you some advice, I would ask Tim Drake out,” he said contemplatively. “You spent years apart, and then as soon as he got back you're suddenly soulmates. You don't know anything about the phenomenon, or about each other. You might be attracted, I think he is, too, at least on some level, but there's no way you can work a relationship around the uncertainty that comes from your past.”

“I know. I know that,” Damian mumbled, looking down at his lap.

Colin was giving good advice. He was always giving good advice. Damian forced himself to look up and see his best friend. His red hair was getting long enough for messy buns, and his pierced ears poked out from under his tufts. His shirt covered them, but Damian knew that the picture was full with his tattooed skin. When someone looked at Colin, they didn't peck him as hero material. But he was. He was the best.

“Thanks, Colin,” Damian muttered, using the boy's given name to make it even more sincere. Then he looked up frowning. “This, however,” he waved between them, indicating the therapy session they'd just had,” doesn't mean that you're welcome to give me unwanted relationship advice.”

“Pfff, whatever you say, Dames,” he laughed, looking at his wrist-watch. It was a present from Damian actually, for his 18th birthday, they chose it together with his father. It was a traditional gift, and Colin was even more happy about it, than Damian thought he would be. “Okay buddy, I have places to be and  _ things  _ to do, but you know that you can always call me, right? And ask Tim out. I'm serious.”

“Sure, sure,” Damian waved at him, than narrowed his eyes. “Where, exactly do you have to be?”

“It is not of your business,” the older boy grinned, and picked up his worn, military green bag. “Later, Dames. Stay safe.”

“As if.”

\--

It was weird. That was Tim's conclusion. In the last couple of weeks, they spent more time together: first only on patrol: Tim was fairly sure that that development eased Bruce's mind, too, and he considered not hanging out with Damian while on the streets, just to spite Batman. But he was actually an adult now, and his head knew that it was better if he didn't drag Damian into their petty fight.

It surprised him how easy it was to work with Damian. It took only a couple of nights to get accustomed to the younger, and after that they were moving together like clockwork. He didn't expect that, honestly. Then, they started to use a private channel between their comms, and when they had nothing to do, they talked. It started with an uncertain question from Damian about his life and friends in Purefly, and from their, they kind of just drifted. It was refreshing, and Tim felt good. It was nice to get to know Damian, he was so different from the kid he remembered. Like a completely different person. Which, he supposed, wasn't exactly surprising. It was seven years after all. That's a lot of time to change.

And then one afternoon, he got a text message. From Damian. That was new.

_ 'I was supposed to go to the cinema with Wilkes to watch this new addition of his favorite lets-blow-things-up flick, but he bailed on me.' _

Tim didn't know what to make of the message, but before he could've answered, his phone beeped again.

_ 'I was wondering if you'd want to come with me.' _

Tim tried not to smile. He failed.

_ 'Because I don't want to go alone. And this could be, you know…' _

_ 'A date.' _

Tim was definitely smiling now, biting his lower lip, and he started to type out an answer.

_ 'I thought Colin and you were tight?' _

It took a minute for Damian to answer. Tim was testing him, just a bit. Before he would've become angry, because Tim wasn't answering his question. This time around however… it wasn't that hard for them to just chat. Tim loved that, too.

_ 'We are, usually. He was really un-Colin-like in the past couple of weeks, though. So now I have to change him to you. A shame, really.' _

_ 'I'd like to go to the cinema with you. Especially if it's a date,'  _ Tim answered, laughing at the clumsy flirting. This time, he had to wait a bit more.

_ 'I'll pick you up at 7.' _

Damian, of course, was punctual, and came with… a bike. The bike, Tim remembered, Dick used when they went out to their coffee date. For some reason Tim felt his heartbeat sped up. In ways bikes were nicer, than cars, they could save you from embarrassing conversation. At the same time however, on a bike you just couldn't avoid close proximity. 

“Hey, Drake,” Damian smirked at him, and okay, maybe the younger was onto something because he looked… well. Good. Fucking good. He didn't even get off of the bike, he perched over the handle, his helmet between his thighs. He was wearing all black - Tim started to realise that that was a thing with Damian, all black, and occasional band t-shirts he got from Colin - and his undercut was probably freshly done. He looked way too handsome for his own good, and Tim's health. Tim could see how Damian was attractive before  _ this _ , too, but since they were actually talking, and the younger started to loosen up, he became even more so, mostly because he was radiating self-confidence. And not the annoying kind like back then when they were kids, but the natural,  _ attractive _ one.

“Hi,” Tim waved at him, and hoped that his face betrayed nothing of his thoughts.

“Are you ready?”

Tim grinned.

“I don't know, man, I looked up the title, and it looked seriously bad.”

“As Wilkes says, sometimes you only need bad cinema for a happy life.”

“Colin is wise, isn't he?”

Damian pulled out a spare helmet, and handed it to Tim, who put it on, and climbed up. Damian looked at him over his shoulders, and his mouth curved into a half-smile, not as sure as his previous ones.

“Hold on to me, okay?”

“Yeah, I don't plan on falling off.”

The movie was just as bad as the internet told Tim, but they still enjoyed it. As people who regularly beat up other people, engaged them in gun-fights or took part in car chases, it looked even more ridiculous, so when someone in the row in front of them gasped, they laughed. Not that there were many seats taken, their row were empty apart from them.

“Can you see that? No way someone could hit like that,” Damian  _ giggled _ , right into Tim's ear as he turned towards him, so they weren't bothering the rest of the audience with their comments (because they had a lot of those). Damian was so close, and when Tim wanted to turn to say something back, he accidentally bumped their noses together, as he was still there, close to him, and Tim kind of forgot what he wanted to say, because everything in his head focused in on Damian's green eyes.

They were such a pretty color. 

Tim wanted to pull back, but before he could have, Damian put his hand on the back of his head, keeping him in place as they breathed in shared air.

“I'm going to kiss you now, Drake,” he said, voice low, and his eyes looked like  _ magic _ , and Tim felt so alive in that moment, electricity prickling on his skin. He couldn't even nod, not that Damian needed encouragement. 

In the next moment he was kissing Tim, slow at first, then deeper when Tim opened up for him. It was awkward over the armrest, it cut into Tim's ribs, but he still put an arm around Damian's neck to pull him closer, fisted his fingers in his hair where it was longer, his nails lightly scraping his scalp. He felt Damian's breath hiccup, this kiss was so different from the one they shared back in the manor. That was chaste and uncertain, this however burnt with purpose, and nobody could call it chaste. 

When they eventually parted, Tim felt highwired, ready to snap, and he didn't protest when Damian took his hand and laced their fingers on the armrest. He couldn't wait the movie to end finally. It wasn't just his body that reacted to Damian's presence and touch, it was also his magic. It was an entirely new experience, and he was so drunk on it he had to take long calming breaths to function again. 

When they were finally out of the cinema, Tim was equally relieved and frightened. What now? He certainly didn't want to let go of Damian's hand but also couldn't force words out of his mouth. Damian was in a similar state, and that just couldn't do, they were adults for fuck's sake. So Tim closed his eyes for a second and steeled himself 

“Hey, Damian,” he looked at the younger, taller than him by a good couple of inches, the tip of his ears red. “I think we should go home and you should come up.” 

Damian swallowed, visibly. 

“That sounds… Acceptable.”

\--

Damian was fidgety, he felt like his skin was too small to accomodate his body. Especially after they got off of his bike, and headed to the stairwell of the building Tim lived in. They didn't hold hands this time, Damian followed Tim up without breathing a word. His insides were dancing, all the things, he thought of as a teen, and then later when Drake came back… they were about to become reality. Once they were inside they were surrounded by awkward silence, but then Tim turned to him, and just…

Kissed Damian.

The one in the movies was amazing, really, but this one, in the flat, was even more so. They were alone, entirely alone, Tim barely even turned on the lights, he fisted one of his hands in Damian's hair, and that just drove him mad. Damian pulled Tim closer, both of his arms around his waist, and okay, Tim was so much smaller than him, but they fitted so well together.

It's not like Damian had too much experience, but he knew for a fact that he could kiss, so he did everything to kiss Tim right out of his mind. His body reacted on a more primal level to the older, and in the next moment he shoved him bodily up to a wall, pushing a hand between the hard material and Tim's head. His hair was silky against his palm, and when Tim bit his lower lip, Damian couldn't push down the growl.

He pushed a knee between Tim's thighs, and he moaned into Damian's mouth as he rubbed against him.

“Fuck,  _ Dami _ ,” he hissed between his teeth, and he was panting. Not that Damian was any better, and when his name left Tim's lips, he just couldn't anymore. He buried his face into Tim's neck and tried to calm down. They were both hard, no doubt about it, but Damian was pretty sure that they shouldn't act on it yet. Not after their first date, not when he couldn't think clearly. He gently bit the skin under his mouth, and laughed when Tim's breath caught. 

The older's arm came down to encircle his shoulders instead, and it was hard to pull back, but Damian needed some space, and he was sure Tim did, too.

“Are we okay, Drake?” he asked after a long moment.

“We are okay, Damian” Tim answered, than smiled at him, and Damian was sure his heart was about to stop. “I think making out is something we should put on our list of things we should do more and together,” he added, and the stars in his eyes were all mischief and something else, something soft and warm Damian didn't know the name of.

“Yes. Yeah. That's an excellent idea, Drake.”

Tim kissed him one more time, this time slowly and gently on his lips. It was less maddening, and easier to take a step back from once it was over. He accepted the tea Tim offered him after, and they talked about the movie, and other things, and it wasn't awkward this time, because they knew each other, or started to get to know each other finally, and Damain laughed and Tim laughed and it was so close to perfect, it almost hurt.

On the way home, Damian just let the Gotham night wash over him and he felt free and happy and larger than life.

**Author's Note:**

> All the kudos, comments and love you gave me and this story is very much appreciated <3 you can find me here: [twitter](https://twitter.com/skyestale) and here: [tumblr](https://skyestales.tumblr.com/)


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